


Fucking Carrot Tops

by ASignificantWhisper



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:48:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5236610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASignificantWhisper/pseuds/ASignificantWhisper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey is a fanboy of Gotham, and he flips his lid over the loss of his favorite character.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fucking Carrot Tops

**Author's Note:**

> M'kay, so this is the last piece of already finished writing I have posted beforehand on Tumblr, but am now posting here. It's not very long. Just something I came up with when I watched the episode. HEADS UP : there's spoilers of a character death of a character from Gotham, which if you haven't heard of said spoiler- where have you been, lol? Anyways, this is gonna be a companion piece to another fic I'm in the works of writing, currently. So, enjoy. Lemme know what you think!

Ian, hearing an abrupt crash from their living room slings the dish towel over the shoulder of his grey t-shirt, a brow raised. Following the sounds he steps into the room to find his boyfriend violently arguing with the plastic cellophane on his brand new pack of Marlboro reds. A discarded bowl of popcorn and pizza bites at Mickey’s feet.

“You need some lube to get those things out, Mick?” Ian, clearly amused just leans against the cracked dry wall, watching the nostrils flare on his partner’s features.

“I’m in no fucking mood, man.”

But Ian just can’t resist. He never can. Mickey Milkovich is just too cute when he’s angry pouting, or brooding. Ian knowing his guy hates both terms. Only he was Ian Gallagher, and he was the pain in his boyfriend’s ass, the pleasure in it too. No, he can’t stop the words from flowing.

“You know I hear if you sweet talk tobacco.. But then again, those cigarettes are king sized. Are you?”

It was an exchange of smirking on the redhead’s part, an eyebrow raise that could slice anything better than a knife could, before the older man is speaking, lighter pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. Emphasizing each word with said hand Mickey is crunching the popcorn onto the floor, the pizza pockets squeezing out. Ian’s nose disdainfully scrunches up, knowing he’d probably have to clean that. He intercepts before his boyfriend can.

“You know who has to clean that up, right? And Iggy took the last trash bag to take off his Ninja Turtles memorabilia.”

Not amused was Mickey Milkovich. Clicking the pad of his thumb back and forth over the Bic lighter, he bites the side of his lip to alleviate some of the tension in his body. “No, the last trash bag is sitting beside the fucking toilet.”

“It was a good investment,” bites back Ian, now crossing his arms.

“It’s a fucking load of books you got from the Goodwill, Gallagher. Not exactly Shakespeare, is it?”

“ That joke book was golden and you know it. Like you weren’t reading that James Patterson one, Mick.”

“Fuck you, it had..”

“A guy with long flowing hair? You got a Fabio fetish, don’t you?” Ian watches Mickey look blatantly offended, as if Ian had recited the alphabet in the key of Kevin’s Christmas alibi tunes.

“Hey dumbass, you think Jimmy P would write that kinda shit?”

Ian was near snorting now, finally getting to the point to which he sees the anger rise in his boyfriend at alarming but familiar rates. “So you gonna continue sweet talking me or you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“I can’t fucking deal with it.”

“With what? Because I’m pretty sure even hipsters have to deal with cigarette packaging, Mick, that’s not gonna–”

“They just fucking killed him off like it made sense. Like..” A wild disarray of hand motions has Ian full on snorting now. It was cute, mildly embarrassing to see his partner reacting this way. He brushes his fingers down the side of Mick’s arm when he consoles him. “Let me guess, you were watching Gotham?”

Mickey nods several brief times, eyes closing, he pinches the bridge of his nose when he’s finally able to work a cigarette out of the pack, lighting it like it’s his golden ticket. When Mickey blows out the first drag of smoke he gives Ian his only needed indication to his anger.

“Fucking carrot tops, man.”


End file.
